


The Drink is Sweeter (When It's Sour First)

by starwarned



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Banter, First Kiss, Getting Together, Gift Fic, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oblivious Simon Snow, POV Agatha Wellbelove, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Playlist, Texting, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, idiots to lovers, it's not graphic but it exists, queen shit!!!, queer agatha!!!!!!, rated M because a large part of the plot revolves around a sex toy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: Simon finds something of Baz's and holds onto it so Baz won't stop messaging him. Absolute shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 40
Kudos: 110
Collections: Baz's Birthday Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seducing_a_vampire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seducing_a_vampire/gifts).



> this is my gift for the Carry On Exchange Flash Round for Baz's Birthday! for dana <3
> 
> [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ZWBVarwq8JbE9AKhJ7V9D) is the attached playlist that I made!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DANA. the light of LIFE. happy baz's birthday to you <3 I was absolutely ecstatic to get you as my giftee for this exchange and I am proud of myself for keeping it a secret this whole time hahahah. I hope I did a good job of hiding it from you. thanks for being literally so good to me and making it a joy to open up my discord. you are so kind and so lovely and so funny. I absolutely adore any time I get to spend talking to you. 
> 
> anyways, so much love for you! I hope you enjoy this uni au (sort of)! <3 
> 
> this is for the Carry On Exchange Flash Round (Baz's Birthday Edition)!
> 
> a million thank yous to [Dem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtherWorldsIveLivedIn/pseuds/OtherWorldsIveLivedIn) for sneakily giving this a beta! :) love you lots

**BAZ**

_ simon snow sent a photo  _

_ simon snow: this yours?  _

I stare down at the Instagram notification. It is  _ indeed  _ mine, evidenced by my name written in neat handwriting on the side of the base, but the fact that I lost it in a public place is enormously embarrassing. And the fact that  _ Simon Snow  _ found it is entirely worse. 

_ Basilton Pitch: Yes.  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Obviously.  _

_ simon snow: uh  _

_ simon snow: would u like it back?  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Yes.  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Obviously.  _

_ simon snow: jesus ur a delight to talk to  _

_ simon snow: maybe i’ll just keep it  _

My cheeks get hot. The idea of Snow holding onto my fucking  _ butt plug  _ is equally titillating and horrifying. (As are most of my thoughts surrounding Snow.) 

_ Basilton Pitch: I would appreciate my property returned to me.  _

_ simon snow: idk man  _

_ simon snow: ur giving me weird vibes  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Weird vibes.  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Right.  _

_ Basilton Pitch: OH, thank you SO much, Simon Snow, for picking my poor butt plug up off of the street or wherever you found it and bravely messaging me on Instagram to return it to me! You are my knight in shining armour! _

_ simon snow: right fuck off  _

I frown down at my phone. Alright, perhaps I went too far. But Simon Snow practically  _ is _ a knight in shining armour and has the attitude of one to match. I’ll never waste an opportunity to antagonise him over it. 

_ Basilton Pitch: What, you don’t appreciate my appreciation? I was simply thanking you for your courageous deed.  _

_ simon snow: ur being a right prick about it  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Where did you even find it?  _

_ simon snow: on the floor of the men’s at Edge.  _

_ Basilton Pitch: And what were you doing at a gay bar?  _

_ simon snow: i work there, arsehole  _

_ Basilton Pitch: You, Simon Snow, a painfully heterosexual male, work at a gay bar?  _

_ simon snow: i’m a bartender  _

_ Basilton Pitch: How have I never seen you there?  _

That’s a downright lie. Of course I’ve seen him there. I go to Edge maybe once every few weeks, but when I first saw Snow there, I made it a habit to go more often. Not that I’d ever let him see me. I never buy drinks when he’s working and I make sure to pull some other man before I risk getting seen, taking them to the bathroom for a quick shag. 

_ simon snow: are u there a lot?  _

_ simon snow: you dont seem like the clubbing type  _

_ Basilton Pitch: I’m not.  _

_ simon snow: anyway do u want it back?  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Yes. Unless you’ve used it. In which case, I don’t. Please burn it.  _

_ simon snow: i dont think silicone burns well  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Well, don’t you know a lot about sex toys.  _

_ simon snow: i dont really but it says the material on the bottom  _

_ simon snow: i cant give it back to u until after christmas  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Why not? Need it for some reason?  _

_ simon snow: no u prick  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Don’t you always stay on campus during holiday? Why can’t I just come get it from you?  _

In all honesty, I don’t even need the butt plug this much. I have two more in my collection and I could easily replace it. But this unfortunate conversation is giving me an excuse to keep talking to Snow. 

And I’ve always been weak when it comes to him. 

_ simon snow: staying with agatha’s fam _

_ Basilton Pitch: And how is Wellbelove?  _

_ simon snow: wouldnt u like to know  _

_ Basilton Pitch: I would. That’s why I asked.  _

_ simon snow: she’s fine. we broke up  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Sorry to hear that.  _

I am, in fact,  _ not  _ sorry to hear it. 

_ simon snow: its fine  _

_ simon snow: anyway i can get it back to u after christmas  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Feel free to use it until then.  _

_ simon snow: bugger off  _

_ Basilton Pitch: I can’t. You have my plug.  _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter TWO! because I have no patience and wanted to post this as soon as I could :)
> 
> please enjoy these absolute fools

**BAZ**

_simon snow: how the hell did you lose this_

_Basilton Pitch: I assume you understand how it’s used. And I assume you have a functional imagination that would give you some insight on how I could lose it._

_simon snow: how do u still have a stick up your butt even though i know you have nothing up ur arse right now_

_Basilton Pitch: You assume that’s my only one?_

_simon snow: okay i really don’t want more details_

_simon snow: idk why you’re so fucking antagonistic_

_Basilton Pitch: Ooh, big word. I’m impressed._

_Basilton Pitch: I’m not antagonistic._

_simon snow: u forgetting the classes we had together?_

How could I forget those blissful hours sat in lecture behind Simon Snow? He’s not a great student, but he works hard, I’ll give him that. It doesn’t help that I’d kick his chair sometimes and he’d get distracted by going off on me. 

Snow and I aren’t friends. We’ve had a few courses together and were roommates our first year at uni. We barely saw each other, though — I had made it onto the football team and Snow spent all his time with Penelope Bunce and Agatha Wellbelove (who soon became his trophy girlfriend). 

We hate each other. 

Well, I hate him. 

He hates me. 

(I’m in love with him.) 

And even when we each got different roommates second year, we didn’t ever make up. I tend to just make a snarky comment when he’s nearby and he glares at me. It’s a stable relationship. 

_Basilton Pitch: How could I forget you falling asleep in front of me every other day?_

_simon snow: fuck off, econ is boring_

_Basilton Pitch: I never said it wasn’t._

_simon snow: yeah but ur an ace student so i bet it was easy for u_

**SIMON**

I don’t know why I keep messaging him. I feel like a fucking glutton for insults. (Always really good insults, but still hurtful when they land just right.) 

Baz Pitch is a huge arsehole and I don’t even like him most of the time, but at least he’s interesting. And being at the Wellbeloves’ after Aggie and I broke up is far more uncomfortable than I’d anticipated. 

I don’t think Agatha’s mad that I still came home with her. We ended on pretty decent terms and I’d still consider her one of my best friends. One of my only friends. (Penny still blames me for _splitting up the group_ even though she’d been desperate for us to stop pretending we were in love.) (In my defence, I wasn’t pretending. I just didn’t know that’s not what love’s supposed to feel like.)

_Basilton Pitch: You’re just a shit student. I’m average._

_simon snow: are you though?_

Is this flirting? 

_simon snow: weren’t u top of your class in secondary?_

_simon snow: i think you bragged to me about it a lot_

_Basilton Pitch: Penelope Bunce was top of the class._

_simon snow: u went to school together?_

_Basilton Pitch: Yes._

_Basilton Pitch: Unfortunately._

_simon snow: oi that’s my best friend u tosser_

_Basilton Pitch: Oh, you’re still friends with her?_

He knows full well I’m still friends with her. Yesterday he liked a post of mine from a month ago with Penny in the photo. I’m still not sure how or why he scrolled all the way back to find that one photo. 

_simon snow: of course_

_Basilton Pitch: Well, if she’s the only friend you have left._

_simon snow: ur a git_

_simon snow: i have friends_

_simon snow: unlike you_

_Basilton Pitch: Great insult, Snow. I’m absolutely crushed._

_Basilton Pitch: I do have friends. Your ex-girlfriend for starters._

I look up from my phone in horror. 

“Agatha,” I yell-whisper to her. We’re sitting in her family’s living room and her mum is doing some sort of craft in the corner while Agatha and I stare at our phones in silence. 

She looks up at me. “What?” she asks. Her delicate fingers are still poised over her phone. Who is she texting? 

“Do you hang out with Baz?” 

“What?” she repeats, looking seriously confused. 

_“Do you?”_

“Why are you asking me this?” 

She’s dodging the question. 

I frown a bit. “Why’re you hanging around Baz all of a sudden?” 

“You’ve completely lost the plot,” Agatha mutters under her breath, turning her attention back to her phone (where she resumes texting). 

I decide to message Baz back instead of trying to interrogate Agatha in front of her mother. 

_simon snow: why the hell are you hanging out with agatha_

_Basilton Pitch: Why don’t you ask her that?_

_simon snow: i’m asking you_

_Basilton Pitch: Agatha’s a big girl and can make her own decisions on who she spends her time with._

_Basilton Pitch: You’re not her keeper._

_simon snow: dont try and date her_

_Basilton Pitch: And what if I did?_

_simon snow: she wouldnt date you_

_Basilton Pitch: Sure of that?_

I’m not. 

I sneak a glance at Agatha and try to look at who she’s texting. 

_simon snow: dont_

_Basilton Pitch: You’re forgetting that you found my butt plug._

_Basilton Pitch: In a gay bar._

_simon snow: oh_

_simon snow: right_

_simon snow: r u gay then_

_simon snow: like really gay_

**BAZ**

This isn’t how I imagined coming out to Snow. To be honest, I never really imagined _coming out_ to Snow. I imagined finding him on the last day of uni, grabbing him by the back of the neck, kissing him with everything I feel, and then disappearing to France and never seeing him again. 

But, I guess this is the hand I’m dealt. 

_Basilton Pitch: I feel like that’s fairly obvious._

He doesn’t answer. I stare at my phone like an idiot for far too long, just waiting for him to respond. I’m sure he’s just snogging and subsequently getting back together with Agatha. 

I end up going through his actual posts for a bit, but I’m particularly careful because I accidentally liked an old post yesterday and spent an hour in a panic that he’d know I’m in love with him. 

After I’ve been sitting with my phone in my hand, tapping on the screen whenever it starts to go dark, for over twenty minutes, I decide I’ve been pathetic enough for the time being. 

I text Agatha. 

_Ex-Gifted Child Turned Gay:_ _Still stuck with Snow?_

_Agatha: the weather phenomenon or the person? yes to both._

_Ex-Gifted Child Turned Gay:_ _Can you sneak away?_

_Agatha: I shouldn’t. my parents are trying to get us to play a board game with them._

_Ex-Gifted Child Turned Gay:_ _When you’re done?_

_Agatha: yeah sure. give me half an hour to pitch a fit._

Agatha and I _have_ been spending time with each other recently. (Apparently not recently enough to know that she and Snow broke up, but often enough.) 

We’re not the best of friends or anything like that, but I do feel oddly close to her. Kindred spirits or some bullshit. Perhaps it’s just because she’s as disenchanted with life as I am. I tend to seek out nihilistic companions, I suppose. Agatha fits the bill.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter for dana as always <3 i heart you lots

**AGATHA**

My parents take my fit fairly well, all things considered. Simon, not so much. He just ends up shutting down a bit and paying attention to his phone. 

Which is fine. I’d like to sneak out alone tonight. 

I make a big deal out of yawning and stretching and letting everyone know I’m going to bed, and then sneak out of my window. I’ve snuck out to go to Minty’s a few times. 

I almost wish I was going to see Minty now, but being around her makes my stomach feel all fluttery and I’ve not really been able to come to terms with that yet. 

So I’m off to see Baz Pitch instead. My car’s parked a bit down the street from the house so I probably don’t wake anyone by starting it up and pulling out onto the road. 

There isn’t a good reason that I’m going to see Baz right now. There isn’t a good reason that I’ve been spending time with Baz at all. I haven’t told Simon yet because I think he’d accuse me of trying to date Baz. And as much as I enjoy Baz’s company and fashion tips, I don’t think he’s my type. I’m also almost certain he’s gay. (With the way he looks at Simon?) (It’s obvious.) 

Baz offers me a smile when he opens the door. I never get to see him smile when other people are around. It’s nice. 

I duck inside his flat and settle down onto the sofa. He slides next to me. 

“You broke up?” he asks. Because of course that’s the first thing I’m asked. This is practically the reason I broke up with Simon in the first place. I’m tired of being an attachment of Simon’s — Simon’s girlfriend, Simon’s friend, Simon’s arm candy. Whatever. 

“We did,” I say, looking up at him. 

He nods and I can tell he wants to ask me more, but is holding himself back. It’s a little annoying how in love with Simon he is. (And how little Simon seems to be aware of it.) Maybe it should bother me more that Baz was in love with my boyfriend while we were dating, but I think I’m just happy Simon’s loved by  _ someone.  _ Even if that someone isn’t me. And even if that someone is  _ Baz,  _ his so-called “arch nemesis”. 

I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever this weird pining is between the two of them, but Baz is also one of my only friends right now besides Minty so I feel inclined to give him  _ something.  _

“I broke up with him,” I say. “I’m sure you know why.” 

He nods. I’ve talked about it before. 

I continue, “He’s taking it better than I thought he would.” 

And I know Baz is only hanging onto my every word because he’s interested in Simon or whatever, but I’ll take it. I just want to tell my side for now, I suppose. 

“I told him I didn’t feel like being anyone’s happy ending. Simon treated me like an end goal and something we’d already figured out. Like, I was his girlfriend, and we were destined to be together or some shit. No room for anything but me to hang on his arm and be  _ there  _ for him. I felt like an accessory.” 

Now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop. 

“So I told him that. And I think he thought it was completely out of nowhere, which maybe adds to my point even more. Simon never cared about how I felt about the relationship — just that I was  _ in it.  _ So we broke up.” 

Baz is sort of staring at me like he’s never really looked at me before. “That’s very brave,” he says finally, and it’s with a compassion I’ve never gotten from him. “Is it difficult having him in your life still?” 

I shrug. “No, he’s always been one of my best friends. I just want him to be happy—” I pause, pointedly looking at Baz. “—whoever that’s with.”

Baz nods. I don’t think he’s caught what I mean.  _ Poor, daft, lovesick fool.  _

Then, he shifts gears. “Why did he still come home with you for Christmas then?” 

I shrug. “It’s what we’ve done for years. And he didn’t have anywhere else to go.” 

Baz’s phone buzzes and he’s lost to me. 

I turn, recognizing that the conversation is over, and flick the telly on. 

**BAZ**

_ simon snow: cool  _

I want to strangle him. He is absolutely unbearable. 

_ Basilton Pitch: Is this how you react to everyone coming out to you? _

_ simon snow: no  _

_ simon snow: i don’t really know any gay people  _

I deliberately flick my gaze up towards Agatha. (Agatha, who has been sitting on my sofa several nights in the past month, ranting about her unorthodox feelings about men and Snow and Minty and sexuality.  _ Not gay, my arse. _ )

_ Basilton Pitch: Well, that’s certainly not true.  _

_ simon snow: penny and aggie are the only people in my life really and they’re not gay  _

_ Basilton Pitch: I wouldn’t be so certain of that.  _

_ simon snow: what  _

_ simon snow: what do u mean  _

_ Basilton Pitch: Forget it.  _

He doesn’t respond after that. Which is fine. Agatha turned on some American film I’ve never heard of so I turn my attention to that instead of thinking about Simon Snow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter!!
> 
> a final happy birthday to baz and happy monday to dana! <3

**SIMON**

_simon snow: wanker_

I waited twenty minutes to send that because I’m still upset that he’d suggest Penny and Agatha were gay and that _I didn’t know about it._ I’m not that thick. Not that it would be a problem if they’re gay. Penny and I have actually talked about it before and she’s very heterosexual. I guess Agatha and I haven’t ever had the chance to discuss it.

I’ve never really thought much about it either. Whether I am or not. Well, I’m attracted to Agatha so I’m at least partly straight, right? 

But I remember a bloke on the football team last year that I thought was really pretty. Handsome. Attractive in general, I guess. 

I mean, Baz showed him up on the field every time. Baz is a brilliant player. And he’s more attractive than any person has the right to be. 

What a plonker. 

I’m currently crouched outside said plonker’s flat. 

_Basilton Pitch: You just might want to actually speak to your friends about these things before you go around assuming they’re straight._

_simon snow: i’ve talked to penny about it_

_Basilton Pitch: And Agatha?_

_simon snow: sod off_

_Basilton Pitch: I’ll take that as a no, then._

_simon snow: we never really had time to talk about it_

_simon snow: and how do u bring that up when ur in a hetero relationship_

_simon snow: “oi i think i also like blokes” while you’re snogging?_

_Basilton Pitch: I don’t want to hear about the horrid pillow talk you’ve had with Agatha._

_Basilton Pitch: Wait._

_Basilton Pitch: Were you going to bring that up to Agatha?_

I stop responding. It feels weird messaging Baz on Instagram while I’m sat on the stairs outside his flat. (And why does he care what I was going to bring up to Agatha?) 

And I know she’s in there. That’s why I’m here. I followed her when she pitched one of her fake hissy fits about being tired and people-d out for the night. I knew she’d rush off somewhere. 

Dr. Wellbelove even let me borrow his car. 

Which I’m shit at driving. Agatha taught me a few months ago but I still nearly crashed it three or four times on the way here.

I want to rush in there and catch them in the act. Well, whatever _act_ they’re in. They might just be talking. With the way Baz is messaging me about Agatha, I have to assume they’re not currently snogging. (Unless Baz is fucking ace at multitasking.) (He probably is. He’s good at everything.) 

I take a deep breath and peek through the window. Baz and Agatha are facing away from me (thank God) and they’re sitting at least two feet apart _(thank God)._ They’re watching a movie, I think. 

Agatha abruptly stands up, says something to Baz, and leaves the room. Now is my chance. I bang on the window and then immediately duck down. The item in my pocket is practically a ten pound weight.

It’s torture, just waiting for some kind of response. At first I think maybe Baz didn’t hear me. But just when I’m starting to stand up to bang on the window again, the front door swings open. 

“Alright, fucker, come out,” Baz says loudly and sternly. It makes my stomach clench. I’ve never heard Baz sound so… in charge. I don’t want to think about how it’s making me feel. 

“It’s just me,” I say, as though he’s been expecting me, stepping out into the light of the streetlamps so he can actually see me. 

“Snow?” Baz demands. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were one of the arsehole _youths_ that throw rocks at my window sometimes.” 

I just manage not to laugh at Baz calling kids _youths._

“I, uh—” I start, now realizing that I don’t have anything to say. All I have is his sex toy in my pocket, that I planned to give back to him, and now feel extremely weird about. _Fuck._

“Just following Wellbelove around like a lost puppy?” 

I clench my fists and my jaw. “No,” I insist. “I’m here for you.” 

“Oh?” Baz asks. His eyebrow raises. I stare at it. 

“Yeah,” I confirm. I take a few steps around the edge of the stairs and step up onto the porch landing. “I—” For some reason, I can’t seem to say, _I have your butt plug in my pocket._ I almost don’t want to give it to him. It’s been nice having something of his for the last few days. It means he texts me more often, anyway.

“Spit it out, why don’t you?” 

I open my mouth to growl or call him a prick or something, but I’m distracted by looking at his legs. I’ve just now realised he’s wearing shorts. He’s got on those tiny football shorts that make his thighs look like powerhouses that anybody would be lucky to be crushed between. 

I think about that bloke who I thought was attractive on the team last year. I think about how Baz was better than him in every way. And now I’m thinking about why it hurt so bad to think of Baz being with Agatha. 

(Thinking cocks everything up. That I’m certain of, because now I’m thinking about getting crushed between Baz’s thighs.)

My mouth has been hanging open for what feels like hours. “You’re—” I choke out. “You’re wearing _shorts._ ” 

Baz barks out a laugh — clipped, mean. “Yes, Snow, I can wear casual clothing now and then.” 

He’s wearing a crewneck jumper right now (that looks really soft) so I can’t see if he’s good on his word and wearing just a t-shirt underneath and not a floral-printed button down as per usual-Baz-fashion. I think I’d like to see Baz in a t-shirt. I have some he could borrow — he’d look really good in them. (Or maybe he’s not wearing anything under the jumper at all.)

I shake my head. “No, I just mean— I don’t know. It caught me off guard.” 

“Mondays catch you off guard, Snow.” 

I furrow my brows. This is not how I expected this conversation to go. “Fuck off, Baz.” 

“You’re the one standing in front of my flat while your ex-girlfriend is using my bathroom.” 

I’m spurred into action at the reminder that Agatha is here. I shove my hand into my hoodie pocket and wrap my hand around the toy. It makes my stomach tug in a funny way, just holding it. I pull it out and reach up to give it to Baz. 

“Here,” I say. 

I’ve never seen Baz blush (and, alright, it’s dark out), but I swear he does now. He looks good. It suits him. 

He snatches it out of my hands. “Thank you,” he says quickly.

Maybe it’s the connotation of seeing Baz holding something so inherently sexual, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about Baz in… certain scenarios. It’s fucking with my head and I have to look away from him for just a moment. 

Baz sighs. “Would you like to come inside, Snow?” 

I instinctively shake my head. Then, I consider it. 

I don’t particularly want to hang out with my ex-girlfriend and _Baz,_ but it’s pretty cold out here. 

And then I’m distracted again because Baz reaches up to run a hand through his hair. 

_What the fuck is happening to me?_

“Suit yourself,” Baz says, starting to turn to head inside. 

“Don’t,” I say quickly, reaching out to grab his sleeve. 

He stills. “What?” he barks out. 

“I—” I cut myself off. He’s still holding the butt plug. It’s making my brain shut down. “Baz—” 

“That’s my name.” 

“Yeah, I know—” 

“Do you? Oh, you’re learning.” 

“Fuck off—” 

I want him to shut the fuck up. Every time I open my mouth to say _anything,_ he’s ridiculing me or making some snarky comment that makes me want to _smack him_ or— 

I kiss him. 

_Yeah, or that, I guess._

I lean forward and take his face in my hands and drag him down to me. (He’s infuriatingly still three inches taller.) 

I don’t know what I expected — to be hit, to be shoved off the porch. But it’s not what I get. I get a frozen Baz for about four seconds before he’s wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me back. 

_Holy fuck._

Is this what kissing a bloke is like? Or is this just Baz? 

Kissing Agatha never felt like this. 

Baz is solid and steady and his cheeks are cold under my palms. I slide my hands up into his hair so I can run just my thumbs over his cheekbones and press some warmth into them. (I don’t know that I’ve ever thought about how cold he is.)

His arms are strong around me and I have half a mind to lift my legs and wrap them around his waist just to see if he can hold me. (I don’t do that in case it’ll ruin the moment.) 

What does ruin the moment is my ex-girlfriend standing at the doorway and clearing her throat. 

Baz and I jump apart. 

I’d like to say that I have some kind of epiphany while kissing Baz — like it all falls into place when my lips slot against his. But really, I’m just left feeling even more confused. And my lips feel sort of swollen. 

Agatha doesn’t do what I thought she’d do. She doesn’t really do anything. She just looks between Baz and I, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows so raised they practically disappear behind the hair swooped over her forehead. 

She, after a moment, just turns around and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I fucking knew this would happen.” 

And now Baz and I are alone again. 

I think the moment is gone so I can’t kiss him again. (Even though I _strangely_ want to.)

But we also _just kissed_ and I’m not sure what the protocol is for conversation after you’ve just surprise-kissed your ex-roommate/arch-nemesis. 

“Right,” Baz says, collecting himself. “I’ll just go in then. I presume you have a ride back.” 

“What—” I sputter out. “What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.” 

“It’s fine, Snow,” Baz says, and I wish I could see his face better because his voice is something I don’t recognise — high and tight like he’s afraid of betraying any sort of emotion. “We don’t have to talk about this to anyone. Emotions were high—” 

“No,” I insist, cutting him off and regaining the foot of space between us. “No.” 

He looks at me with wide eyes. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips. 

“I didn’t just kiss you because I was upset,” I say, unable to tear my gaze away from his mouth. “I— I kissed you because I wanted to.” 

Well that’s news to me. 

I’m not really thinking the words before they’re falling out of my mouth but Baz seems to be hanging on to every single syllable so I keep going. 

“I mean, yeah, I was upset and wanting you to shut up. I always want that. But I—” I reach up and run a hand harshly through my hair. “Fuck, Baz— would you like to go out with me or something?” I’m pretty certain that I’m blushing all the way down my chest at this point, but I’m not taking the question back. Baz can accept or not. 

“What?” he asks, his voice eerily quiet. 

“Will you—?”

“I heard you,” he says quickly. “Aren’t you here to get your ex-girlfriend back?” 

I shake my head. “No,” I murmur. “Plus, _someone_ told me she’s probably gay.” 

I think Baz is blushing again. “Are _you?_ ” he asks, reaching up to brush a stray curl away from my forehead. 

“Am I…?”

“Are you gay?”

Instead of being confronted with a sexuality crisis on Baz’s porch, I lean up and kiss him again. I can deal with the logistics later.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](snowybank.tumblr.com)! I am just as sexy and annoying there as I am here


End file.
